


Revenge Is Best Served On Your Bed

by thirtyspells (weatherveyn)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake Sex, Fluff, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, crack and silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-10 08:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatherveyn/pseuds/thirtyspells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lucifer seeks vengeance in the form of faking sex noises, Sam gets some kisses, and Dean is presumably scarred for life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge Is Best Served On Your Bed

It says something about the nature of their friendship that Sam just sighs and resigns himself to a night of torment when Lucifer taps on his window at ten o’clock on a Friday night. Sam briefly considers ignoring him, but he has a feeling Lucifer might resort to breaking the window or maybe singing obnoxiously loudly if he does, so he flips his textbook pages-down to keep his place and shuffles to the window.

“What’re you doing here?” he hisses once he has the window open.

Lucifer shoves at his shoulder, already manoeuvring his legs through, and Sam steps back so he doesn’t get a lap full of Novak. He can feel his face heating at the thought, and hopes Lucifer doesn’t notice.

“Avenging myself,” Lucifer replies, smoothing his shirt over his hips absently.

“What?” Sam asks, blankly.

Lucifer scowls and stalks over to Sam’s bed, throwing himself down on it. Sam’s homework bounces to the floor with a low thump that’s almost lost in the loud, creaking groan of Sam’s old mattress. Lucifer shuffles for a moment, making the bed creak, then smiles dangerously.

“Perfect,” he says, and that’s all the warning Sam gets before Lucifer lets out a low, filthy groan.

Sam freezes, eyes wide.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he squeaks.

“Be quiet,” Lucifer murmurs, then tips his head back and moans again, louder.

Sam’s heart is pounding in his ears, and he’s suddenly painfully aware of how  _loud_  Lucifer sounds in the relative silence of the house. Mom and Dad have gone out for their monthly date night, and exams are so close, now, that even Dean has broken into a study frenzy. There’s no way Dean can’t hear this, and it sounds like –

“Lucifer,  _you_ be quiet!” Sam snaps, crossing the room to grab the senior by his forearm. “What the fuck? Dean’s going to hear you.”

“That’s the point,” Lucifer replies, looking at his arm and then up at Sam’s face. “Aa- _ah_!” he moans, fixing Sam with a pointed stare. “ _Sam_!”

“Lucifer!” Sam yelps loudly, feeling his ears throb hotly, and then groans when he realises how that’s going to sound to Dean. “Shut up!”

“If I have to listen to him banging my baby brother when I’m trying to study, he can do the same,” Lucifer tells him darkly, shifting on the bed to make the springs screech. “Come on, Sam, aren’t you sick of it, too?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t want him thinking I’m screwing  _you_!” Sam hisses back.

Lucifer blinks slowly at him, and for a second Sam thinks he maybe shouldn’t have said that – or at least not so vehemently. Lucifer’s not exactly a sensitive guy, for the most part, but it’s still kind of a dick move to act like sleeping with him would be disgusting. He’s an attractive guy, if Sam’s being honest, and it’s not like he’s never thought –

“You can tell him the truth tomorrow,” Lucifer says mildly, kicking his feet up and letting them thump loudly back onto the mattress. “I just want to see how  _he_  likes having to listen to this. Let him squirm for a few hours.”

Sam narrows his eyes at the blond sprawled out on his bed, frowning. Lucifer’s eyes are hooded, a smirk teasing the corner of his mouth like he knows he’s about to win.

“Come on,” he says. His tone reminds Sam of red-lipped girls smiling coyly across a darkened room, lashes low – all temptation and promise. “Let’s have some revenge.”

The brunet hesitates for a moment, biting his lip. Dean’s going to throw a shitfit over this, and then kill Lucifer for supposedly despoiling him – but Sam can’t help but think of all the times he’s had to shove his headphones in and repress the memory of his brother whimpering Cas’ name; can’t help but think of all the times he’s had to call Ruby or Jo to escape and endured their hysterical laughter; can’t help but think of every time Dean’s half-jokingly mocked him about being a virgin.

When he releases Lucifer’s arm, though, it’s not because of any of that – it’s because Lucifer is looking at him with ice-blue eyes, something dark and delighted gathering behind them like thunderclouds. He likes that look, likes the way it makes his stomach fall and his breath catch like dropping over the crest of a rollercoaster.

Lucifer smiles widely at him as he perches on the edge of the bed, and climbs onto his knees. He twists around, grabbing the headboard and throwing his weight gently into the motion so it bumps into the wall with a satisfying  _thud_.

“Fuck,” he moans, and pulls such an exaggerated sex-face that Sam has to shove his knuckles in his mouth to keep from laughing outright. “Yes,  _Sam_! Fuck! Harder!”

“Dude, what kind of porn do you  _watch_?” Sam whispers into his fingers, grinning. “That’s the worst dirty-talk I’ve ever heard.”

Lucifer shoots him an offended look. “ _Aargh!_   _Oh, Sam! Touch me… there_!’”

“Oh God, shut up,” Sam groans, burying his face in his hands to hide a smile. “No quoting  _Fifty Shades of Grey_. Why did you even read it?”

“I didn’t. Lilith did, and kept up a running commentary via text,” Lucifer corrects. “She was offended as a female. And vocal about it.”

“Of course she was,” Sam says, slightly muffled. He pauses, suddenly realising something, and looks up curiously. “You do realise you’ve made yourself the bottom for the sex we’re not having, right?”

“And?”

Sam opens his mouth, then shuts it again when he realises he’s got nothing to say to that – mostly because he’s suddenly noticing the lines of Lucifer’s body as he rattles the bed-frame, the smooth shift of muscle in his back and shoulders, the way his jeans are pulled tight against his ass in this position. Sam swallows and shifts, arranging his limbs in a way he hopes hides the bulge in his pyjama pants.

“Aren’t you going to help?” Lucifer asks quietly, looking at him with a curious expression. “This would be more effective if he heard both of us–”

“I’m not loud,” Sam responds without thinking.

“Neither am I,” Lucifer says. “But he doesn’t know that, does he?”

“Well, no. But…”

“Oh, are you embarrassed?” Lucifer smiles and Sam feels heat crawling up his neck, ears throbbing. “I promise not to laugh.”

“I’m not making sex noises with you, Lucifer,” Sam says firmly, shaking his head and watching as Lucifer goes back to his task.

Sam half wonders why Dean hasn’t burst in yet, but then he gets distracted by the way Lucifer is moaning and panting and – completely unnecessarily – arching his back almost pornographically. Sam watches, mouth dry, and can’t help but imagine being pressed against the length of his back, hands over Lucifer’s where they grip the bed-head, grinding his aching dick into Lucifer’s ass. Can’t help but imagine the expression Lucifer would really have on his face, the noises he’d  _really_  make if Sam wrapped a hand around his cock and made him come.

“Fuck,” Sam mutters, feeling his dick twitch against his wrist.

Lucifer either doesn’t hear him or ignores him, slowly increasing his pace and babbling out the standard porn dialogue. He’s smirking, clearly enjoying himself, and Sam wonders how long it’s been since he did something silly like this. Lucifer and his brother Gabriel had been pranksters and unholy terrors when they were younger, but for some reason Lucifer had become much more serious and reserved around the time they started high school.

Sam wonders if it had anything to do with Michael leaving for college. He knows enough from Castiel to know that Mr. Novak has always put a lot of pressure on his kids and that Lucifer has always been competing with Michael for his attention – with Michael gone, Lucifer might finally have gotten the attention he wanted. Or maybe just more pressure to succeed. Sam’s not sure what’s worse.

Lucifer gives the bed one final shake, letting out a loud, shuddering cry that makes Sam hiss and press his wrist into the hard bulge in his pants, feeling mortified even as he does. Lucifer rocks back on his heels, breathing uneven and smiling with a sort of sedate satisfaction that is completely at odds with the bright gleam of his eyes.

“Pleased with yourself?” Sam asks, hoping Lucifer doesn’t notice the unsteadiness of his voice or his obvious arousal. “Can you get out now, please? I have homework.”

“Do you kick everyone out so soon after you’re done with them?” Lucifer asks mildly, reclining on the bed, chest still visibly rising and falling. “I think that’s considered impolite, Sam.”

“Of course I don- I’m no- there was nothing to be done  _with_ , Lucifer,” Sam splutters.

Lucifer just smiles lazily at him.

A silence falls between them. It would be comfortable if Sam wasn’t hyperaware of the sprawl of Lucifer’s legs and how well his hips would fit into the vee of them. The thin curve of Lucifer’s smile has him thinking about how it would feel to kiss him, how Lucifer would react. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it – far from it – but he’s a teenager. He’s thought about a lot of people like that, and there’s no denying Lucifer is attractive.

Now, though, there’s a soft edge to the desire. He wants to press Lucifer’s mouth open and kiss him until they can’t breathe, hot and fast and dirty – but he’s thinking about syrup-slow, sweet kisses on sunny afternoons too, and his heart’s stumbling over the thought the same way it did last year when he thought about kissing Jess Moore. He thinks it’s because Lucifer looks relaxed in a way Sam has never seen him look before. There’s something soft and light in his eyes, instead of the blank, cold look he usually wears.

Sam moves before he’s made a conscious decision, twisting around to stretch his body over Lucifer’s, hovering a few inches above the older teen as he fits their mouths together. The blond stills, mouth soft and unmoving, and then he’s kissing back almost cautiously as Sam lifts a hand to cradle the side of his head. Lucifer hitches one leg up, bending it at the knee and knocking Sam’s hip, forcing Sam to shift until he’s kneeling between Lucifer’s legs.

“I thought you didn’t want your brother to think you were fucking me,” Lucifer murmurs when Sam pulls back to check his reaction.

“I don’t want Dean to think that,” Sam replies, taking in the dark pupils and hooded eyes, the spit-slick red of his lips. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to happen.”

Lucifer kisses him, biting his lip sharply and teasing with his tongue until the younger teen loses patience and forces the kiss to deepen. Sam is surprised by how  _pliant_  Lucifer is – he’s not submissive, and he meets every movement of Sam’s tongue with equal pressure and playfulness, but it doesn’t feel like a fight for dominance. It feels like  _dancing_ , like the push and pull of moving through the steps and having your partner move to fill the empty spaces you leave, all fluid movement. It’s perfect.

Lucifer shifts under him, sliding down until he’s lying flat on the bed, and Sam follows, breath hitching at the feeling of the hot, hard length of Lucifer’s cock against his. Lucifer makes a low, pleased sound and presses his hips up, rolling them against Sam in short little circles that make him groan.  

“You don’t seem surprised,” Sam pants out, mouthing clumsily down Lucifer’s throat to bite his collarbone through his shirt. “Did you plan this?”

“No,” Lucifer replies, voice shaky but still more composed than Sam is happy with. “I’m not complaining, though.”

Sam bites the shell of his ear, drags the lobe between his teeth until Lucifer jerks his hips up, hissing.

“Just not complaining?”

“Is this the part where I tell you I’ve wanted to kiss you since you dated that little blonde last year?”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You were datin–”

“After that.”

“You’d never looked at boys before.”

Sam laughs. “I’ve always looked at you.”

“Oh,” Lucifer breathes, and Sam kisses him again just to feel him smile into it.


End file.
